To Need a Hero
by Meian-Rose
Summary: America's been a bit allusive lately, skipping out on both the world meeting and the meeting of the formerly considered allies. And everyone that knew America knew that was totally unlike him. The date: September 11th 2001. Tribute to America, tribute to those who have helped comfort the (as well as the) victims of 9/11. No pairings inside/minor swearing/slight blood.


Arthur hadn't seen Alfred in a while, and his disappearance was a bit unsettling. He was absent at the world meeting AND this mornings meeting of the allies, in which (although self-appointed) he usually led.

**The Date: September 11, 2001.**

"Damn.", England swore as he slammed the phone back down on the hook for perhaps the seventh time that day, "What the hell has gotten into that bloody git this time..This is strange behavior, even for him."

He'd just gotten off the plane to America and quickly checked into the nearest hotel, immediately trying his luck with the phone. He'd called three or four times before the flight, and a few more times afterward..He'd left his cell phone back in England in the midst of his rush, but he paid no mind for now. At the moment his only worry was ringing the mans neck as he pleased..

With yet another attempt, and another voice mail, he found himself rather irritated and decided to give the phone a break for a moment. So, he sat down with a cup of tea and flicked on the television.

"_Regarding the breaking news contributed to our news station throughout the day, we are now giving you the inside coverage, updating what has just happened moments ago, which took American's by storm early on this morning at approximately 8:46 am. Two confirmed terrorist attacks have just struck both twin towers in New York city. This tragic event has devastated just too many, and as we speak firemen are on the clock, working their way through the rubble and so far an even amount of at least 1000 bodies are visible, the rest are still being recovered and we're frantically searching for survivors. We'll have more on the story in just a moment._"

"Dear god..", he gasped, "This can't be true."

It made too much sense..The American would never miss out on a meeting, no matter the circumstance..

Unless..

He shuttered at the thought.

Yes, America had abandoned him as a small nation, yes he'd declared his independence and yes he'd left Britain alone, as everyone else had. Did that mean he wished _this_ kind of pain on his former colony? No.

No one deserved this kind of pain.

* * *

"America!", he yelled as he banged on his door, loudly, "America open up! Open up now.."

After attacking the door a few more times, he resorted to the alternative and quickly picked the lock, (most likely breaking it), showing himself inside.

"America! Where are you! Come out, now!"

He received no answer.

Storming up the stairs and down the hall, he searched each and every room, even the basement, before locating the master bedroom where a loud, rather uneven, almost _gasping_ noise was clearly audible.

"A-America?"

"Oh, hey England.", he smiled weakly, "What's up?"

"Don't play stupid! Why are you on the ground..What's wrong with you?"

"Nothing's wrong with me. Hero's don't get hurt!"

"That doesn't explain why you're on the ground."

"How did you get in my house?"

"Answer the bloody question!"

"Nothing is wrong!"

"Don't lie to me!"

"Look, I'm a hero, I can totally handle myself and I don't need-"

"I saw the news, America. Whether you've seen it or not, I know you can feel it. You're in deep pain right now and you need to let me help you, do you understand? Attacks on our land or our people don't just injure our country, they injure our bodies and these don't heal as quickly as any other pain you've felt before. Your country could be on the brink of war for all we know, and you want to waste time denying that you're hurt?! Get up right now, and I'm going to treat your wound! I don't want to hear another word!"

"But-"

"Now, America!"

Though reluctant at first, the boy slowly pulled off his stained bomber jacked, rolled up his sleeves, and revealed two nasty gashes on each side of his arm. They were both cut clean and promised a nasty burn should anything touch it. The blood was there, and it was pouring out of him by the gallons, so it seemed..If he was anything less than a country, his body surely would have shut down from blood-loss by now.

"Two, twin wounds.."

"It makes sense, doesn't it?", he bitterly chuckled, biting back a twinge of pain.

"Does it sting?"

He nodded unhappily, lowering his head.

The Brit said nothing, merely standing up and making his way to the bathroom where he recovered a few bandages and clear medical tape. He forced the man to sit down on the bed with both of his arms stretched out wide.

There they both sat in silence, not a word spoken, as England wrapped the bandages around the large cuts. (Really, they were too big to be considered cuts but..)

"There. You're all fixed."

"I don't feel fixed."

"Of course you don't..", he sighed, "Take it from me, America, I know what a pain seeing your people treated like this can be. They're dying, they're in agony, they're suffering and there's nothing you can do about it but..You just have to wade out the storm and stay strong for your country, so they can too. I know you can do it. You've endured much worse than this and I have complete faith in you..Even if you are a git."

"Thanks, Artie."

"I told you to stop calling me that!"

* * *

It took a little over a month before the nation felt okay again. In the meantime, he spent his days at home, taking it easy and watching the news, keeping track of ever waking moment until the very last second he fell asleep, right in front of the TV. England was a frequent visitor, and over time, so were the rest of the Allies. They even brought gifts..

China offered chop sticks, embroidered gold. Russia offered a sunflower and a few seeds as well. France offered his finest bouquet of red roses and wine, and even Canada had some freshly baked pancakes important from Canada, made by the finest chefs he had to offer.

He was clearly happy, England realized as he watched him on the couch, enjoying his gifts. So it was only fair that he didn't expect..

"England, why did this happen to me?"

"What do you mean?"

"Why did this happen to the hero..The hero's supposed to protect and defend the innocent public but.."

"Say no more, America..", he sighed, "It's time like these where even a hero can't stop the inevitable.. Your people never deserved this kind of torment and they're likely suffering from the loss, but no matter what, you must keep your spirits high, as should they. I may not say it enough, but this is a very beautiful country and I know for a fact your people are strong, and so are you."

"But, doesn't that mean that..I'm not..the hero?"

"Don't think like that.", he sighed, "Just because you couldn't stop a terrorist attack that was out of your hands, does _not _mean you are any less of a hero to your people now than you were before this happened. Right now, the most heroic thing you can do for yourself and everyone around you, is put on a brave face and endure it. One day this wrong will be righted, and you will claim vengeance upon this evil man. For now, hold your head up high. After all, what were you chanting about so bloody much during the revolution? Land of the free, was it? Home of the brave?"

America smiled and laughed, loudly.

"I guess you're right, England! If that's the case, then for my people, I'll be the best hero anyone has ever seen!"

England didn't doubt that for a second.

* * *

**Today during class, one of the teachers made an announcement honoring those who lost their lives during 9/11. I hadn't checked the date yet, so I was a little confused, but as soon as I realized what today was, I couldn't wait to get home and honor them too. I also didn't include a pairing in this fic in case anyone was wondering. I'm just used to writing for England so naturally I used him as the one to hunt down his former colony. I'm also aware that around 3000 people died in the attack, but because the official number had yet to be confirmed by the time England had watched the news, they'd only accounted for 1000.**

**P.S. I love America. Not just as a country, but as a character. I think he's so adorable and so loud and just so funny, I can't help but love him. He's so sweet yet mischievous and I just love his personality so much. **

** So, I consider America my hero, even if he couldn't stop this from happening.**

* * *

**Update/response:**

**In response to a review I received explaining how offensive this "tribute" may come across, I'm very sorry you see it that way, but I feel like national tragedies deserve a little attention, and tying it in with a sweet show that I love isn't going to harm anyone. Honestly, I put my passion into writing, and I write about the things I love. I love Hetalia, I love America, I love writing, and since there's not much else I can do to send my heart out to those who suffered, why not shed a lighter note on the situation? So please, instead of mourning over the loss, live for them and carry their memory on. The lost loved ones wouldn't have wanted to see the American people crying because of this, they know we're a stronger people. Sorry if I'm rambling a little but I'm a bit philosophical that way.**

** And to whoever wrote that review, I'm sorry you found this offensive, it was in no means intended to be that way. I'm actually very cautious regarding how other people may or may not feel towards something I write about so I went out of my way to keep any shipping fuel or anything that may trigger out of the way. The fiction wasn't supposed to focus on the characters per say, it was mainly an "inspirational" outlook on comforting those who are hurting, not just England and America. **

**One more thing. In case you're wondering why I chose England rather than any of the other allies, I figured he'd have a closer/more up-front brotherly relationship with America as they were indeed former brothers, and I'm also used to writing for him, but if you've seen some of my other fics I'm sure you know that, and if you haven't, well, you don't have to check it out. It's really irrelevant to this fic in particular in all other senses.**


End file.
